


White for Mourning

by LizBee



Series: White for Mourning [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Futurefic, Post-Canon, canon character of colour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizBee/pseuds/LizBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mai and Zuko, preparing for the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White for Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> Future-fic is GREAT. This totally ate my brain today at work, which was a problem, since I already had a headache. But Branwyn fixed the bits that were horrible, because she's the best beta reader ever. EVER.

At dawn, the breeze carried the scent of incense, but it could not lift the heavier stink of burnt wood and fabric and flesh.

Mai's brother found her standing before the stone shell which was all that remained of the house.

"The funerals begin today," he said.

"Tell Mayor Gon the town has the sympathy of the Fire Lord and his family," said Mai. "We leave in an hour."

She set a brisk pace, pausing only to change their komodo rhinos for fresh mounts. In different circumstances, Tom-Tom would have offered her a race, and she could have enjoyed the vicarious pleasure of his exuberance. Today, though, they rode without speaking.

Despite the speed of their journey, it was nightfall before they reached the Capital, and fully dark before they entered the palace. Without bothering to change her clothes, Mai strode towards the royal family's private chambers, her brother a silent shadow in her wake.

She paused to draw breath before opening the doors to the Fire Lord's sitting room. After the isolation and silence of the day, it was shocking to be in the brightly-lit chamber, warm with the crackle of fire. Her children's bows were appropriately deep but shockingly brief, and they welcomed their uncle into their midst with more noise than courtesy.

She swallowed words like, Be still and, Be quiet before they could escape her lips, and let Zuko lead her away towards the window.

"Burned to the ground," she said. "There were no survivors."

Leaning against him, she was close enough to feel him slump. Silly Zuko, always hoping. Mai closed her eyes and listened to her children.

"Master Kao says--"

"--and Zu-lin ate the whole--"

"--listening, Uncle Tom, I said--"

"Sorry, Zu-lin, it's been a long day--"

"--firebend as well as--"

"--and I said--"

"I saw Healer Yugoda while you were away," said Zuko.

It took a moment for Mai, her thoughts taken up with fire and flesh and history, to recognise the wariness in his voice and the tension in his body.

"The scar," she said, opening her eyes. "Azula's lightning."

"She says it damaged my heart. Beyond repair."

"She's an old woman," said Mai. "There are other Healers."

"I know," said Zuko. "I asked Katara to look at it."

Mai stepped away from him, crossing her arms tight over her chest, reminding herself of the comforting weight of the knives she still carried. She was the Fire Lady, protector of her husband and their children and their entire nation. She had spies throughout the world. She was feared by many and loved by few. Nothing could touch her. Nothing would touch her family while she was alive.

"I think," said Zuko, "we need to begin preparing for a regency."

They turned, almost as one, to watch Zhuo demonstrate a new kata to his uncle, his small face screwed up with concentration, a stray hair falling from his topknot into his eyes.

"He's nine years old," said Mai.

"He'll need you."

"How long?"

Zuko shrugged. "Who knows? A year? Two? Three? Maybe a decade, if I avoid any physical or emotional stress."

"Right. That won't be a problem at all." Satisfied that her face betrayed no emotion, she turned back to Zuko. "Have you told the children?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Have you told the Avatar?"

"No. I thought -- Aang has enough problems right now."

"He'll need to know. Zhuo will need him."

"I know."

Zuko's hand curled around hers, as if they were teenagers again, stealing moments in a war that put them on opposite sides.

"It's funny," he said. "First my sister and then -- this."

"Zuko," said Mai, choosing her words carefully, "the fire. The mayor thought it was a lightning strike, but the night was clear."

He turned to watch Zu-lin demonstrate his calligraphy for Tom-Tom. Zuko's face was in profile, so that all Mai could see was his scar.

"My father was so proud when Azula learned to bend lightning."

"I know."

"Are you going to tell me it was quick and painless?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Zuko." She ran her thumb against his fingers, letting the sensation linger before withdrawing her hand and sending the children to bed.

Before she retired herself, she slipped into the room she used as her office. Tom-Tom was already there, standing behind her desk.

"You're not going to tell him?" he asked.

To suggest that a spymaster was keeping secrets from the Fire Lord was to imply treason; to suggest it of a Fire Lady was worse. But he was her brother. Mai waved for him to sit. She rested her chin in her hands and remembered the blackened stones, the stink of death. The bodies the villagers had recovered. Five of them.

Mai had knelt in the ashes, taking the skulls in her hands, looking at teeth and ribs and fingers, while Mayor Gon and his people fluttered in horror at the sight of the Fire Lady so abasing herself.

Azula was a slim woman, no taller than Mai herself. Some of the bones had been long and heavy. Masculine. Two male attendants. The others had been old and chalky, and very fine. Women. Three women.

But none of them Azula.

"She won't be Zuko's problem," said Mai, willing herself to betray no emotion. "He shouldn't -- the worry."

Tom-Tom squeezed her hand.

"I'll instruct the agents to watch for her," she said. "You -- you teach Zhuo. When -- when he becomes Fire Lord, that's when she'll move."

"Mai--"

"And she'll have to contend with me," she said.

She slipped a shuriken blade from her sleeve and turned it over, watching it gleam in the dim light.

Tom-Tom bowed and left her.

When the moon was concealed by clouds, Mai threw the knife. It embedded itself in the wall. A true shot, even in the darkness.

Satisfied, she went to join her husband in bed.

 

end


End file.
